


Proof of life in the shadows

by eyasarcher



Series: Shorts [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Cheating, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Not gonna tag too much, Please approach with caution, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Spoilers, cos yknow, endgame spoilers, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18685984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyasarcher/pseuds/eyasarcher
Summary: I'm seeking comfort by writing and angsty/comforting Winterhawk endgame piece. I would write a proper description, but spoilers.APPROACH WITH CAUTION, ENDGAME SPOILERS AHEAD.





	Proof of life in the shadows

The two men lay side by side, limbs intertwined, bodies half bathed in the soft glow of the street lights. Blinds half open, cigarette smoke laying thick in the air.

“I should go.” Clint whispers, his hand gently tracing the scar tissue of Bucky’s arm. He’s laid across the other man, his tattooed arm stretched across the expanse of Bucky’s chest, and his legs tangled in the sheets and between the other man’s legs.

Bucky draws in a chest of smoke, pausing to pull the cigarette from his lips and look down at the man slouched across him.

“Then go. Laura will start to get suspicious otherwise,” he smirks.

“She’s already suspicious.” Clint groans, his eyes rolling as he nuzzles further into Bucky’s chest. “But I don’t wanna go,” he whispers into the taut muscles of the man’s shoulder, his lips leaving goose bumps in their wake as the words form against his skin.

“I’m not going to force you, doll. You can stay for as long as you like.” Bucky coos, his free hand moving to draw shapeless form’s along Clint’s bare back, the two unable to keep their hands off each other.

Clint sighs and sniffs a little, and Bucky feels the sob in the tension of the archer’s back before he hears it. He gently shifts a little to stub out his cigarette in the ash tray, breathing out the last lungful of smoke before wrapping his arms tightly around his lover.

“I miss her so much, Buck.” Clint sniffles, his grip tightening.

Bucky sighs sympathetically, knowing all the too well from the deep ache in his own chest, what Clint is feeling.

“I know. I miss them both,” he whispers against the skin of Clint’s neck, trying his hardest to fully engulf the other man.

“Sometimes I still wait for her calls. I wait for her to welcome herself into the farmhouse and swing the kids around, all the while complaining about how big they’ve gotten.” Clint sniffles again, this time drawing in a deep breath and twisting so that he can look at Bucky. “Sometimes I just sit out there on the porch, hoping and praying to hear the sound of the quinjet… But it never comes.”

Clint’s grey eyes are glittering with tears, his face contorted with grief.

“Yeah, it’s like… I was so busy trying not to lose my own battles, that I never thought about losing Steve.” Bucky whispers into the silence of the room, the hazy air suddenly feeling a bit too heavy. He tightens his grip on Clint. “Now he’s gone. And I know that he’s back there, living his best life and slow dancing with his Peggy. But it hurts so much, because I felt like I only just figured myself out, and I was ready for a life with my best pal… and now he’s gone.”

Bucky bites his lip, trying to contain the emotions boiling over in the pits of his stomach. He feels the dull ache in his chest, something so painful that it makes him gasp a little, drawing in a sharp breath.

“We won the war against Thanos, and saved the universe. And yet, we lost more than we ever have before.” Clint continues, his voice wobbly and heavy.

Bucky huffs and lets the tears begin to flow. It’s been 3 months since they won the battle for the universe, and Bucky’s not sure he’s ever cried more than he has in these past 3 months.

And the weight of the situation sits so heavy of every single person’s shoulders. The Avengers are broken and scattered, their bond unbreakable, but their spirits shattered into tiny shards. Grief riddles every single one of them, the war having affected each and every person.

“But at least we’ve got this.” Bucky whispers so gently, pulling himself impossibly close to the archer, trying to memorise and map out every inch of skin, every freckle, every scar.

Clint hums in agreement and settles his unshaven cheek against the man’s chest, his gaze drifting to the blinds. Through the slats he can see the city of New York, and somewhere in the far distance, the remnants of what was once The Avengers tower.

He sighs and closes his eyes, focusing on the rhythmic beating of Bucky’s heart. It’s comforting and familiar, reminds him of brighter, safer times.

“Yeah, at least we’ve got this.”

And for a brief second, there’s a smile on the archers lips. Small and sad, but a smile nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> God, so... who else's life has been utterly ruined by the endgame????  
> I cannot even believe it's actually canon, and real and ouch. It hurt me so much.  
> This is my first time writing strictly in the bounds of the MCU, normally I write Clint 50/50 and Bucky mostly mcu, but also a lil' comics. But this is all MCU, and I wrote it because I needed it. I needed comfort knowing my two faves are alive, and despite never really interacting, they at least have each other. I imagine them bonding over (mostly????) dead besties. (I know Steve isn't technically dead, but I feel Bucky's gonna feel like he missed an opportunity. IDK IDK )  
> The title is taken from Twenty One Pilots, Leave The City. A very apt song that now gives me even more feelings.  
> I also cried whilst writing this hahaha. (*sobs*)  
> But anyways, I'm not sure what this tiny one shot is, but I needed it, and I feel like maybe someone else needs it too. Enjoy as much as you can.


End file.
